Chapter 7 - The Man at the Door
They remained in Black Pine that night.
Harlan insisted.
The mountain road was too exposed, and after Gideon's visit neither he nor Nora believed Josephine should travel after dark.
Nora gave Josephine the upstairs room that had once belonged to Eleanor when she visited Black Pine as a girl.
Josephine found carved initials on the windowsill.
E.H.
Her fingertips traced them.
For years, her mother had existed only in memories filtered through Gideon and Agnes.
Too emotional.
Too impractical.
Too indulgent.
Nora remembered someone entirely different.
“Your mother once rode thirty miles through a rainstorm because a miner's wife was giving birth and needed help,” Nora said over supper.
Josephine smiled.
“That sounds impractical.”
“It was.”
Nora grinned.
“She was magnificent.”
Harlan sat quietly nearby.
He seemed content simply listening.
Later, when Nora went downstairs, Josephine found Harlan standing outside her room.
“Something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then why are you guarding my door?”
“I'm not.”
“You're leaning beside it.”
“Could be coincidence.”
Josephine folded her arms.
“Harlan.”
He sighed.
“Vale has men in town.”
“Then come inside.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“To guard the window.”
“That is a terrible excuse.”
“Still true.”
Josephine opened the door wider.
Harlan entered.
He checked the window latch.
Then the closet.
Then beneath the bed.
Josephine smiled.
“Find any businessmen hiding under there?”
“Not yet.”
“You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
When he turned toward the door, Josephine said, “Stay.”
Harlan stopped.
“Not…”
Her face warmed.
“I mean sit.”
He took the chair near the window.
Josephine sat on the bed.
“Tell me about your sister.”
The humor vanished.
“Harlan?”
“Her name was Sarah.”
Josephine waited.
“She was younger than me.”
“How much?”
“Five years.”
“What happened?”
His eyes moved toward the dark window.
“Our father died when I was twenty-two. Left debts.”
Josephine's chest tightened.
“Someone offered to erase them?”
Harlan nodded.
“A rancher named Merrick.”
“And Sarah?”
“She was seventeen.”
Josephine understood before he finished.
“Harlan…”
“I thought I could fix it.”
His voice remained quiet.
“I took logging work. Mining. Freight. Anything that paid.”
“But?”
“Merrick didn't wait.”
Josephine covered her mouth.
“Your mother?”
“Dead already.”
“What did you do?”
“Went after her.”
Harlan looked down at his hands.
“I reached Colorado six months later.”
Josephine almost didn't want to ask.
“Was she alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief came too early.
“She wouldn't come with me.”
“Why?”
“She was pregnant.”
Harlan's jaw tightened.
“And Merrick had convinced her she would have nowhere else to go.”
“What happened?”
“She died during childbirth.”
Josephine's eyes filled.
“The baby too.”
Now Josephine understood the pain she had seen when he burned her corset.
The rage when Gideon named another price.
“You didn't fail her.”
Harlan laughed bitterly.
“I promised I'd get her out.”
“You tried.”
“Too late.”
Josephine crossed the room.
She stopped before him.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“You did not put her in that situation.”
“No.”
“You did not trade her.”
“No.”
“You did not force her to stay.”
“No.”
“Then stop carrying the sins of the men who did.”
Harlan stared at her.
“That simple?”
“No.”
Josephine's smile was sad.
“But neither is breathing after twenty-six years in a cage.”
Harlan looked at her.
Something changed between them.
A warmth more frightening than the storm.
His hand lifted slightly.
Then dropped.
Josephine understood.
He would not assume.
She reached down and placed her hand over his.
Harlan's fingers closed carefully around hers.
Neither spoke.
A knock thundered downstairs.
Three hard blows.
Harlan stood instantly.
Nora called, “Who is it?”
A man's voice answered.
“Silas Vale.”
Josephine's hand went cold.
Harlan looked at her.
“Stay—”
He stopped himself.
Josephine almost smiled.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Good.”
They went downstairs together.
Nora opened the door only after Harlan positioned himself beside Josephine.
Vale entered alone.
His elegant coat held melting snow.
“Mrs. Creek.”
Josephine hated how easily he used the name.
“Mr. Vale.”
He removed his gloves.
“I believe there has been a misunderstanding.”
“No.”
His smile barely shifted.
“You haven't heard my explanation.”
“I heard enough.”
“Your father behaved poorly.”
“That is generous.”
“I made him an offer believing he had authority to negotiate.”
“An offer for what?”
Vale's eyes held hers.
“Marriage.”
“Why?”
“I admired what I heard.”
Josephine almost laughed.
“You never met me.”
“Reputation travels.”
“What reputation?”
Vale hesitated.
That was answer enough.
“You didn't know anything about me.”
“I knew your family.”
“You knew my land.”
Vale's smile disappeared.
Harlan shifted slightly.
Silas looked toward him.
“This conversation does not concern you.”
Harlan's voice remained calm.
“She does.”
Josephine almost corrected him.
Then realized what he meant.
Not the property.
Her.
Vale turned back.
“I will offer you fifty thousand dollars for the western section.”
Josephine's breath caught.
Even Harlan looked surprised.
Fifty thousand dollars.
More money than most people would earn in a lifetime.
Vale continued.
“You sign tomorrow. I disappear.”
Josephine thought of Gideon.
The corset.
Her mother's returned letters.
The way men had always assumed hunger made her negotiable.
“No.”
Vale blinked.
“You misunderstand the amount.”
“I heard it.”
“One hundred thousand.”
Nora inhaled sharply.
“No.”
Vale studied her.
“Mrs. Creek, sentiment is expensive.”
“This isn't sentiment.”
“What is it?”
Josephine thought of Eleanor.
Choice.
“Mine.”
Vale's eyes cooled.
“For now.”
Harlan stepped forward.
“Conversation's over.”
Vale put on his gloves.
At the doorway, he turned.
“Railroad companies don't wait for sentimental women.”
Josephine met his eyes.
“Then perhaps they should learn.”
Vale smiled without warmth.
When he left, Josephine released a breath.
Nora sat down heavily.
“One hundred thousand dollars.”
Josephine nodded.
“Did I just make a terrible mistake?”
Harlan answered.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because you said no before looking at anyone else.”
Josephine understood.
For the first time in her life, the decision had been entirely hers.
But before sunrise, someone set fire to Nora Whitcomb's stable.
May you like
And Josephine woke to the smell of smoke.
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